


elysian

by mori_txt



Series: spi™ shenanigans [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, MCYT fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Angst, Family Dynamics, Found Family, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I Love He, No Romance, Platonic Relationships, Techno-centric, im so sad why isnt that a tag, im sorry for those times but u-u it must be done, it feels vry objectifying okie, its almost 3am and i wrote this on a whilm, none of that ok bc i am uncomfy with shipping real ppl bc like, sometimes it be, somtimes there will not be that tho :(, that should deffo be a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:20:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27755236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mori_txt/pseuds/mori_txt
Summary: (mcyt supernatural/god au)...or in which home is where the wayward heart lies.
Series: spi™ shenanigans [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2030269
Kudos: 38





	elysian

**Author's Note:**

> marz plz dont flame me too hard bc ive never written before and this was ur idea 1st :<

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the youth get too invigorated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this is just a draft ig ill add more on later?? idk)

The wind whips past his ears as he runs and runs through the trees and the vines of the swamp. Distantly, far up ahead, he sees his brother laughing, eyes shining as they reflect the sun. His voice is clear and carries far. The cries of anger from the piglin behind him drown in Techno’s laughter himself as he proudly carries the gold he had so brazenly stolen just seconds ago. Their laughter is of juvenile boys caught up in the mischief so often sparked and created in the time of one’s youth. It is carefree and soft, and it rings out like bells that chime in the summer breeze as the smell of the oceans salt fills your nose and cools your body. 

Just as he reaches his brother, their fingertips connecting just barely, a hand grasps his wrist. 

Wilbur’s expression flickers from one of mischievous joy to confusion, to fear, all within a second. Though to Techno, as he’s dragged under the water, is replayed frame by frame, his own emotions reflecting in his twins eye. 

The water is harsh and unforgiving as the creature that grabbed him. 

A sea witch. 

Her skin smooth against the water glides effortlessly as she drags him further and deeper into the ravines below them. Eyes purple like the setting skys that seem to light up the surface around them. 

Everything is so murky and hazy, and despite feeling cold and fast moments earlier, feels like molasses and molten lava.

His thoughts are slow. 

‘Am I going to die here?’ 

‘How’s Wilbur going to get back home without me’?’ 

...

.... 

‘I’m scared...’

Just as his view begins to dim, he makes out the sea witch’s mouth as she chants her curse. Her lips move hypnotizingly like a siren, yet she utters no sound. Her eyes reflect the message all the same. Unabashed anger and surprisingly to the young child, the righteousness of a magistrate. He sinks into the heat, surprisingly painless.

.

Rough hands pick up the boy that had been submerged in the water for a time unknown to both. Techno blearily opens his eyes to his dad who begs him to stay away, his twin who stands quiet to the side, silent but begging nonetheless to a god he does not even believe in. 

‘Please’, their expression says, ‘stay with us. Don’t leave us. For the love of everything that exists- please, don’t leave us’. 

It takes all that it is that makes of him to try and stay awake, yet his eyes flutter shut, weak to the warmth that surrounds him.

.

The cycle continues for a week. A week that stretches on to feel like eons to the father and brother, who watches over the boy. By the end of the week, Phil and Wilbur are at their wits end, and the room is covered in hair, obscuring the young boy. Despite his holy attributes, Phil could not help his son, leaving the house dull and aching. 

They watch as his hair grows impossibly long as if seasons had passed when they curiously had not. His brown hair, so much like the course dirt beneath their feet changes, shifts, like the sky above their heads. It shifts from a murky brownish green to a blue (‘I hate it,’ Wilbur says to Phil. ‘It looks like the swamp.’), before finally setting on a pink so soft like the clouds the boys had so often talked about sleeping on. 

They watch on dread sinking their hearts, making them wonder how long it would take for Techno to wake up. How many more days could they stand? 

And then he woke up. 

.

Techno didn’t wake up with a start, infact, unbeknownst to Wilbur and Phil, he had been waking up multiple times throughout the week. In the late nights when the moon shone brightest, the ray of light seeping slowly into his room, blessing his face, he would flutter his eyes open, taking in his surroundings. 

Everything was so dreamlike, like molasses, so warm. As the moonlight passed, slowly fell into his slumber once again. 

Yet today was different. 

Today, he woke up without the moonlight softly shining on his face, softly illuminating his room, chilling his body, chilling the molten lava that ran through his blood stream. No, this time he woke up to the warmth of the sun, which unforgivingly heated his skin, flushing him slightly. It was only then that he was able to regain enough of his strength to look around. 

He noticed his hair first- how could he not? It covered the walls, and swamped the floors, and it was pink. And suspiciously soft? Other obscure features he would come to find later. Like his ears which sharped and angeled, letting him hear so far of things he would normally not. Like the birds that sang for their beloveds above the skys, yet there were no birds present. Or the bugs and insects that carried their own tunes and languages despite not being seen to the naked eye. 

He became stronger, more agile, and though he always was more adventurous out of the two he could not quell his urge to roam around, and search the forest for something he himself did not even know what he was searching for. 

(His eyes glowed pink and purple, just like the sea witch at just the right lighting, though no one would say that to his face. It was too unnatural, too obscure, yet they could not help but admire the etherealness and revel in his grace as he grew older). 

Phil and Wilbur were setting up breakfast when Techno bounded into the room. The father cried out, and Wilbur stood in shock as his normally more often than not stoic twin laughed and cried, hugging his brother and dad. 

The world continued on spinning, and the world did not tilt on its axis, and the world was quiet. But in a certain house that laid in a field, miles away from any town- that night it was loud and it was joyous. 

It was home.


End file.
